The Darkened Hearth Hotel
by GrimHoroscope
Summary: America has organised a haunted tour of an abandoned hotel, but it doesn't exactly go as planned...


The last remnants of the sun's heat were fading from the air and the chill of night was beginning to settle in as the eight nations trudged up the hill. Before them lay the hulking ruin of The Darkened Hearth Hotel, abandoned and forgotten. Shadows lurked behind the boarded windows and a tangled mess of ivy maintained a strangling hold on the crumbling brickwork. Italy clung to Germany's sleeve while America practically bounced up the hill, turning back every five seconds to hurry his companions along.

England lagged behind, keeping China company as he struggled through the undergrowth in his flat pumps.

'I wish he'd told us we'd be hiking there aru,' the smaller nation complained as his exposed shins brushed past another clump of thorny vines. 'I'd have worn some more appropriate footwear.'

England sighed as he surveyed his once black jeans, now coated in several green stains. 'Forethought isn't one of his strong points.' He agreed.

'We're here!' America's excited cry rang out in the still night air once they all stood in the shadow of the decaying veranda. He bounded up the stairs, ignoring the creaking protests of the rotting wood and stood in front of the large, dusty double doors, striking a dramatic pose.

'Oui, well done. Now would you mind telling us _why_ we are here?' France asked. Everyone else nodded in agreement. Giving an exaggerated pout at their lack of enthusiasm, the American swept his arms open wide.

'Are you ready for this, guys? We are gonna do...' he paused for effect, ignoring England as he rolled his eyes. 'Dun dun dun a Test of Courage!'

'A test of courage?' Russia's childish voice broke the confused silence.

'It is something we do in my country.' Japan explained quietly as the other countries turned to him. 'Usually a class of children will be paired off and sent into a course of frightening sets and environments. It is like a rite of passage for many Japanese school children.'

'Ve... That sounds scary...' Italy shivered, clinging tighter to Germany's sleeve. The tall blonde sighed. He'd given up trying to dislodge the smaller man long ago.

'That's right, Japan! But I decided to give it a bit of a twist; tonight, we're gonna take a tour of this hotel, the location of several grisly murders from years ago! It'll be awesome; we'll see where they died and everything! Wait, where are you all going?!' America called as the rest of the nations abruptly spun around and began to trek back down the hill.

'Come on, guys, don't go! Russia, you like murders, right?' America tried desperately to appeal to their retreating backs.

'It's no fun if I didn't kill them, dah?' Russia answered uninterestedly.

'But I went all this trouble so we could do something together!' America tried again. His companions paused at the plaintive note in his voice. 'I did all this research into it...'

Almost as one his friends sighed, hunching their shoulders, and turned back.

'Fine, but this had better not take long.' England declared irritably as they all filed up the steps and through the front door into the darkened foyer of the hotel. America barely managed to stifle a pleased grin and followed in behind them.

'Well everyone, welcome... to The Darkened Hearth Hotel.' America started in a low voice, pulling a small torch from his pocket and switching it on, resisting the urge to shine it under his chin. 'They say that 50 years ago, the owner of this hotel, usually a gentle and kind man, suddenly snapped.'

'They?' France whispered to England, unimpressed. America ignored him and carried on.

'According to several police reports and eye witness accounts,' America looked pointedly at the Frenchman who merely sniffed in response. 'The owner of the hotel suddenly went crazy mad and killed several of the guests, each in a different and gruesome way. Follow me, and I'll show you the first murder site.' America couldn't stop himself grinning with excitement as he turned and led the way through a once grand pair of doors nestled between two elegant, sloping staircases that converged above it, leading to the first floor.

As everyone trailed unenthusiastically after him, Italy quivered in fear. Watching horror films in his living room with all the lights turned on was one thing, but actually being at the scene of a violent murder was something else entirely. In his mind's eye, every serial killer from every movie he'd ever seen lurked in the shadows, waiting to attack. He jumped and let out a girlish scream as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Beside him Germany let out an exasperated sigh.

'We haven't even seen the first site yet. Will you please get a hold of yourself? He said as he began pulling the Italian in the direction of the rest of the group. Italy clung to his arm and looked back but he could only make out his own vague shadow, bouncing around in the light from America's retreating torch.

As the nations wandered deeper into the bowels of the hotel, they could make out traces of what had once been an elegant and refined building. Delicate, swirling patterns could just be made out through the substantial layer of grime that coated the carpet beneath their feet and when Germany paused briefly to study the peeling, yellowed wallpaper he could see the remains of several once beautiful murals peeking out from underneath the dust before Italy pulled him anxiously after their friends.

The pair caught up as America halted midway down the long hallway. With a mixture of excitement and revulsion, he pointed out a long, dark stain that was barely visible on the ratty carpet.

'This is it! This is the first murder site!'

China stifled a gasp with his long sleeves and darted behind Japan, who gazed with morbid fascination at the carpet. Russia gave an unreadable smile and England snorted derisively. The stain was so worn it could have been anything, though he guessed it was probably wine, accidently spilled by an inexperienced maid.

'According to the reports the victim was a young woman, and the owner slashed up her face and chopped her hair off before leaving her to bleed out on the carpet...' America explained, unable to tear his eyes away. France gave an exasperated groan.

'Mon dieu... First you drag us up this godforsaken hill in the middle of the night now we have to listen to stories of mutilated faces and destroyed hair? I'm going home.' His swished his head irritably and stalked back down the hallway.

'Wait...' America called sadly after him, his enthusiasm dampened somewhat as he watched the Frenchman flounce back down the hallway and into the foyer. England patted his arm sympathetically, hiding an amused smile.

'I think the hair was too much for the poor frog. Let's just carry on without him, shall we? I'd quite like to get home myself.'

America nodded in agreement, his smile returning as he headed in the opposite direction, deeper into the hotel. 'We don't need that guy anyway. Come on, you guys are gonna love this next-'

Before he could finish, a blood curdling scream echoed down the hallway, long and pained. Everyone's head swivelled in the direction of the sound as their bodies tensed.

'France!' England cried, sprinting back toward the front door, the others hot on his heels. As they passed through the doors and into the foyer they skidded to a halt. The large reception was empty, save for a rumpled piece of cloth in the middle of the floor. Germany stepped closer, noting numerous dark flecks of liquid on and around the silky brown article, as well as several chunks of light blonde hair and a few scraps of faded yellow paper in the folds.

'Isn't that... the waistcoat France was wearing?' China asked nervously.

'It appears he was attacked.' Japan stated. 'America-san, we are the only ones here, correct?' he asked the taller man beside him. America nodded, his eyes wide.

'Then who could it have been...' The Japanese man pondered, his face inscrutable as always. China edged away from Russia, who smiled benignly. Germany cleared his throat.

'We were all together and accounted for in the hallway when it happened, so it couldn't have been any of us.'

'That is true...' Japan looked thoughtful. Suddenly the tense atmosphere was shattered by America's brash laughter. Everyone stared at him in surprise.

'That old frog, he's just playing a trick on us!' America beamed. 'I told you guys the first murder victim had her hair cut off, and France decided to leave this and scare us! Come on, let's get back to the tour, he'll probably come sloping back any moment now once he realises it didn't work.' He shook his head, still chuckling as he headed back down the hallway. Behind him the other countries looked at one another.

'He's probably right. I'll never understand European humour.' China shrugged, pulled Japan with him after the American. Italy gazed unsurely up at his German friend who shrugged as well, and they followed after. England remained behind, staring down at the torn waistcoat.

'I just don't think France would cut his hair and ruin his clothes for a joke,' he said to himself thoughtfully.

'England? You are coming also?' England looked up to find Russia standing by the double doors, waiting patiently. He gave an affirmative smile, nodding as he joined the Russian and they trailed after the rest of their friends.

The group continued down the hallway for a while before America suddenly darted to the side and down another hallway, this one slightly wider. His cheery manner returned, he skipped ahead, the torchlight bouncing wildly with every step. Several yards later he paused beside a nondescript door and waited for the rest to catch up.

As they filed up unenthusiastically, he began his next speech.

'This store cupboard is the location of the next murder. They say that the owner strangled a visiting plumber in here and then left his body hanging from the ceiling.' America jiggled the door handle before sighing disappointedly.

'But I guess we can't see this one. Come on, let's find the next site.' Relieved, the rest of the nations followed him down the corridor. Suddenly a deep yell sounded from behind them, followed by a heavy thud. They spun around in time to see Russia sprawled on the dirty carpet, his legs engulfed in twisting, roiling shadow, being dragged backwards into the open store cupboard. He struggled uselessly, giving a terrified wail as he disappeared into the cupboard and the door slammed shut behind him.

The other nations rushed forward as a series of sickening thuds issued forth from behind the door. Germany tugged at the handle but it refused to turn. Giving an angry yell, he threw himself shoulder first into the door but it still refused to budge.

Suddenly a terrible silence fell within the cupboard. As Germany ceased his assault, the door slowly creaked open a fraction. With a rising sense of dread England reached for the handle and pulled it fully open. The six nations stared uncomprehendingly at the store cupboard, empty save for a pale pink scarf tied in a noose, dangling from the ceiling.

Reaching up, Germany numbly undid the noose. It was covered with the same flecks of blood as France's waistcoat, and the ground beneath it was littered with similar scraps of paper. With a shrill scream, Italy turned and dashed back toward the front door, followed closely by America and China. Japan, Germany and England shared a worried glance before hurrying after them.

The group skidded into the foyer and made for the front door, giving the torn waistcoat a wide berth. America grappled with the door handle for a moment before turning back to the others with an uncharacteristic look of fear on his face.

'It's locked!' he said, trying to quash a wave of panic. Italy looked like he was going to faint as Germany pushed past them, throwing Russia's scarf over his shoulder and giving the door handle a strong yank with both hands. It still refused to open. China twisted his fingers fearfully into the material of Japan's sleeve as the younger nation tried to steady his breathing.

England took a deep, shaky breath. The look of pure fear on the larger nation's face as he was dragged away had shaken him to the core. It took a lot to frighten someone like Russia.

'Everybody calm down.' Germany spoke, trying to keep his voice level. 'Panicking will get us nowhere.'

'Calm?!' Italy cried hysterically. 'Something just dragged a big scary Russian into a cupboard! I don't wanna die!'

As Germany grabbed Italy by the shoulders and shook him, England turned to the others and spoke quickly and quietly.

'Alright everyone, I think we can now safely say there's something weird going on here. What do we know?'

'I think we can reasonably assume that both France and Russia have been attacked by some unknown force,' Japan replied distractedly, his brow creased in thought as he struggled to connect the dots.

'And both attacks happened in a manner that seemed to correlate with the murders that happened here.' England continued, closing his eyes as he recalled the details America had narrated.

'Where is the next murder you were going to show us?' Germany asked America, having succeeded in calming his Italian companion. The smaller man still clung to Germany's sleeve as he wiped his tears away.

'It was... In the kitchen, I think...' America spoke hesitantly, fear threatening to drive the information from his mind. 'You don't wanna go there, do you? I mean you saw what happened to Russia.' Silence followed his words as everyone tried not to think about what had happened.

'I think we should go.' England said finally. America stared at him in disbelief. England tried to keep the anxiety from showing on his face as he spoke. 'We obviously can't get out this way. I wouldn't feel right leaving without France and Russia may be insane but he didn't deserve that. If we continue to follow the murders they may give us some insight into what happened to them.'

Japan murmured in agreement and China unburied his face from the other nation's sleeve long enough to give a short nod. America threw his hands up in exasperation.

'Fine.' He huffed loudly, jumping at the echo. Giving an involuntary shiver, he headed for a small door that led off from the main reception hall. The rest of the nations trailed quietly after him, save Italy.

'I don't wanna go.' He said, his lip quivering. England frowned and opened his mouth to speak but Germany held up a hand and turned to the smaller man who stood trembling by the front door.

'You may stay here if you wish, Italy. But the others are going to find our friends, and I am going with them.' The German turned briskly and strode after America, pausing only to lay Russia's scarf beside the bloody waistcoat on the floor. The others glanced at each other before following his lead. As they all filed through the service door Germany felt a hand grasp his sleeve and smiled inwardly. It would be easier to protect the silly Italian if he stayed close.

The narrow service corridors were in even worse condition than the rest of the hotel. An unpleasant, damp smell stifled the air, and large patches of mould grew rampant along the walls. America trod gingerly on the cracked tiles, and England noticed that he hung back more often, making sure England was right behind him before continuing on.

'I'll keep you safe, my little brother,' China whispered as he clung doggedly to Japan's sleeve. Behind them, Germany gently ushered Italy in front of him as they walked. The blonde nation brought up the rear, occasionally glancing behind him as he tried to hide his worry.

At the end of the corridor a mildewed door opened out into a large kitchen area. Dulled metal surfaces abounded and moulding piles of food lay everywhere, as though the kitchen staff had left in a hurry.

America picked his way past the counters, making for a huge industrial sized oven at the back of the kitchen.

'The next victim was found inside this oven. Apparently the owner just shoved the poor guy in there and turned it on.' He spoke in hushed tones, all traces of enthusiasm gone. Everyone stared at the oven in silence.

England fought back a niggle of fear and stepped closer to examine the oven. He'd become extremely wary of anything to do with fire since the incident in 1666. It was a hulking behemoth of an appliance, coated in a thick layer of dust and soot. The door still hung open, presumably from when the police removed the body. England tried not to think about it. There didn't seem to be anything unusual to be found on the outside.

'Give me your torch.' He held out his hand and America complied. Bracing himself on the lip of the opening, England peered inside, flashing the torch around the blackened interior. His eyes could just make out the flash of something in the torch light, though it was nestled right at the back of the oven. It was too far to reach from the door. Cursing, England turned to the others.

'I think I can see something right at the back. America, are you sure the gas is shut off in this building?'

America nodded. 'The gas and electrics were shut off when the hotel closed down. Besides, all the pipes are probably rusted away by now.'

England surveyed the oven nervously. He didn't trust it, but whatever was hidden in the back could prove vital. He made up his mind.

'Germany and America, hold the door open while I go in and retrieve whatever it is. Do not let go, under any circumstances.' They nodded grimly and each took a strong grip on the heavy door. Taking a deep breath, England crawled inside. As he shuffled forward heaps of soot cascaded down upon him, and he pulled his jacket up over his nose, keeping his eyes fixed in the object at the back. Outside, Germany and America braced themselves as the rest looked on fearfully.

'I've got it.' came England's muffled voice moments later. A shadow passed in front of the oven and without warning the door ripped itself from Germany and America's grasp, slamming shut. With a shout of dismay they grabbed hold of the handle and tugged fiercely but the door remained shut. A great whooshing sound echoed from inside and through the sooty window the horrified nations saw a mass of black flames leap up. A single, terrible scream could be heard over the roaring conflagration as the nations tried desperately to open the oven.

As soon as they had started the flames died away and the door swung open again. Everyone peered, stunned into the oven but there was no trace of the Englishman. Not even bones remained. America numbly reached a trembling hand in and pulled out his torch, sooty but unharmed, and cool to the touch.

Italy buried his face Germany's chest as the taller man held him close, a look of sheer disbelief on his normally stoic face. China and Japan stood frozen, stunned into silence. America sank down into the floor, his head in his hands, shoulders heaving. The five nations remained there for a long while before Japan spoke up, his voice steady and quiet.

'We should find the next murder site.' He said, placing a gentle hand on America's shoulder. The younger nation looked up, blue eyes rimmed with red.

'England is dead...' he said, his voice cracking. 'It's all my fault.'

'Many things have happened that I cannot begin to explain. How did Russia get dragged into a closet? How could we not open the front door? How did the oven shut by itself when you were holding it?' America stared, not understanding. Japan helped him to his feet.

'I believe we are dealing with something supernatural. Three of our group appear to have suffered fatal attacks yet we have found no bodies. I believe they are still alive.' Japan finished, his face an emotionless mask marred only by a single tear trail. America twisted the torch in his hands.

'Do you really think so, Japan?' Italy asked quietly. Japan nodded.

'I think they are still alive because I choose not to believe they are dead. We must carry on if we are to find them.' China wiped his eyes and nodded, proud of his little brother's fortitude.

'Japan is right.' Germany said, glad that he could always rely on the serious nation in difficult situations. 'Where is the next site?'

America took a steadying breath and led them out of the kitchen and back down the mildewed service corridor. Out in the foyer he crossed to the opposite side where another, fancier though still decaying door stood. A tarnished plaque proclaimed 'Conservatory' in flowery lettering.

America pushed the door open, the stiff hinges protesting the whole way and the group filed through it into a large greenhouse built onto the side of the hotel. Barely any moonlight filtered through the grimy panes and the once carefully tended plants now grew in untamed, threatening masses.

The nations stared about at the wilderness that had reclaimed a small part of civilisation, trying not to notice the deep pools of shadow that were everywhere they looked. Italy shivered uncontrollably and Germany gave him a gentle squeeze, affording the Italian a rare, comforting smile.

'The owner buried one of the guests alive at the base of that tree.' America said, shuddering. Japan glanced around at where he was pointing. In the centre of a large courtyard an ancient gnarled tree loomed over everything, casting an impenetrable lake of darkness where it joined with the earth.

'It was probably here before the hotel,' Germany said thoughtfully. 'It looks like they built the hotel around it.' Italy couldn't suppress a shudder as he stared up at the dark, contorting branches. China hung back as Japan took a step closer. He could make almost nothing out in the shadows, only hints of thick, twisting roots. As he leaned forward his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something light fluttering between the strips of peeling bark.

America surveyed the tree with a deep trepidation. The lack of visibility beneath its canopy sent jangles of uneasiness rippling through his body. He hugged himself for comfort, realising he was shivering. Trying to banish England's final scream from his mind he watched as Japan edged closer to the tree. The nation seemed to have noticed something at its base.

Suddenly Japan pitched backward, his feet yanked out from under him. America gasped in horror as he realised that several thorny vines, black and slick like oil, had wrapped themselves around the smaller nation's ankles and were swiftly dragging him toward an impossibly dark hole at the foot of the tree.

China screamed in shock as Germany launched himself at the nation, grabbing his outstretched hand. His booted feet gouged two long trails as he struggled to brace himself. Japan's eyes were filled with fear as the vines continued to haul him faster toward the shadows. Germany's grip never faltered and the rest of the nations watched in horror as both of them were dragged, struggling into the shadows. Jolted into action by his Japan's terrified cries cut sickeningly short, America shot forward, followed by China. Shining his torch into the darkness revealed that there was no sign of either of their companions. Only a single piece of paper remained, yellowed and dog eared. America grabbed it and they scrambled backwards out of the shadows, neither willing to spend a moment longer near the cursed tree.

'Germany...' Italy sank to his knees, crying pathetically. China hurried over and embraced the sobbing nation, his own shoulders shaking uncontrollably as America gave a scream of frustration and sorrow. The cries of his friends as they disappeared one by one echoed hauntingly in his mind and guilt threatened to overwhelm him. This had all been his idea and now the people he cared about were paying the price.

'America,' China tentatively approached him after a moment, his voice thick with tears. 'Let me see that piece of paper.'

America silently handed it over. China tried to read the flowery script a few times before realising his eyes were filled with tears. A handkerchief appeared around his left shoulder and he felt Italy's forehead pressed against his back. Gratefully, he took the cloth and wiped his eyes.

'It's an invitation...' He said, confused. America stood beside him and looked at the dates.

'An invitation for something the same day as the murders. And it looks like it's the same paper as those scraps we keep finding every time someone...' He took a deep breath, clenching his trembling hands.

'It's for some kind of grand tea party in the dining hall.' China read, frowning. America looked troubled.

'That's where they found the owner of the hotel.' He said worriedly, staring unfocussed into the distance as he tried to recall the report. 'The police arrived moments after he'd set himself on fire. They managed to put it out before it spread, but they were too late to save the guy. The reports say he just stood there laughing while he burned.'

'We don't have a choice, do we?' came Italy's muffled voice from behind them. He unburied his face and they turned to face him. 'We have to save Germany and the others.' He sniffled and China passed him the handkerchief back to blow his nose on.

America nodded grimly. Quietly yet swiftly, the trio made their way back through the door and into the foyer. This time America led them up the right hand staircase, to the first floor. At the top he hesitated before slowly pushing open the large double doors. Another long corridor stretched out before them.

'The dining hall is right at the back of the hotel,' America explained softly as he led the way. Italy and China stuck close to each other as America strode ahead, his fear dulled by a desire to hurt whoever or whatever was messing with them. When he found them, they would pay for attacking his friends.

As they reached the last set of double doors at the end of the corridor they slowed, taking care not to make too much noise. Italy's breathing hitched in fear but the feel of China's small hand in his reassured him. America glanced backward at the pair and they nodded grimly, their tearstained faces pale in the torchlight. As quietly as he could, the American pushed the doors open.

It took their eyes a moment to adjust to the light, though it was only soft. As the spots in their vision receded, they stared in awe.

Before them lay a magnificent hall. Once luxurious curtains hung from the ceiling to the floor, though now they were moth eaten and faded. Lavish decorations strung against the high ceiling were now covered in a thick layer of dust. A wonderful feast had been laid on the table; now all that remained were a few mouldering scraps. Flickering candlesticks were dotted among the plates of uneaten food, their warm glow incongruous with their decaying surroundings.

Italy gave a shout of joy and shot forward. Around the table, sat before sets of tarnished cutlery were their friends, bruised and bloody but alive. They looked up at the sound of Italy's voice and watched the young man throw himself at Germany. America choked back a sob of relief and followed.

'You're alive.' He breathed. As he approached England he noticed the other nation was swaddled in thick chains, malevolently oily just like the vines had been. America stared at them in dismay. He tried to pull at them but his hand burnt with a searing pain when he touched them.

'Only just. Get us out of here.' England croaked. His voice was hoarse and ashes spilled from his lips as he spoke. Multiple patches of burnt skin shone through the dense layer of soot he was coated in. America looked around and saw that the rest of the nations were in a similar situation. The shadowy chains bound them painfully tight to the chairs and they looked much worse now that he was closer. France was sporting several deep, weeping gashes across his body and face, Russia's neck was ringed with deep purple bruises and he seemed to be struggling to breathe and Japan and Germany were both covered in dirt, their clothes and skin torn to shreds. America realised with a sickening jolt that if they had been normal people they would not have survived.

'China, can you-' the words died on America's lips as he turned back toward the smaller nation. China stood unmoving in front of the doors, his face downcast and his eyes in shadow. America took a wary step forward. He could hear the man mumbling under his breath, though he could make out no words. He watched in horror as dark, liquid shapes began to writhe and pool at China's feet, flickering up his legs like flames. A cold, deep laugh spilled from his lips, sending a shiver of icy fear running down America's spine. Behind him the rest of the nations watched helplessly as shadowy flames consumed the slight form of their friend, bathing him in darkness.

'A party's no fun without guests.' A razor sharp, multilayered voice that was not China's issued from the nation's mouth. He stalked haltingly forward, as though every movement pained him, and black flames sprang up in his wake, spreading across the carpet.

America backed away slowly, fighting the urge to run away. He'd been prepared to take on the culprit, to make him pay for what he'd done but as he stared into the twisted face of his possessed friend his mind refused to take action.

Suddenly China lunged at him. America leapt to the side, barely missing the man, and went tumbling head over heels. The roar of fear in his ears almost drowned out the shouts of his friends as he narrowly avoided another wild lunge. His sleeve brushed against the shadowy mist that swaddled his friend and he frantically swatted at the small black flames that licked at his arm. Taking advantage of his distraction, China attacked him again, knocking him to the ground. As they grappled America could feel his hands and arms start to blister, his mind screaming at him to get away as he struggled to breathe in the heat that radiated from his opponent's borrowed body.

There was a sickening thud and suddenly he was free, his hands bubbling and blistered, his face and hair singed. His breath was coming in short gasps and he felt faint. He looked up blearily to see Italy swinging one of the candlesticks wildly, his eyes squeezed shut as he screamed in terror. Staring at the candlestick dumbly for a moment, America had a flash of inspiration. He sprang up, ignoring the pain in his hands as he grabbed one of the lit candles from the table. Taking aim he threw it as hard as he could at China.

As though he'd been doused in petrol, the smaller nation burst in to bright orange flames. He screamed, in his own voice this time, as the shadows seemed to evaporate from him. Screeching swathes of darkness roiled and spiralled upwards as light and dark flames battled, shooting straight through the ceiling. China stumbled backwards into one of the long curtains and it went up in a blaze of fire almost immediately. Behind America, the dark chains that bound the other nations melted away and they stumbled upright, eager to be free.

America quickly tore off his jacket and leapt forward, yanking the burning nation out of the escalating fire. Italy opened his eyes as he heard the roaring of the flames. Seeing China on fire he followed suit without hesitation and the two nations together managed to smother the flames, extinguishing their friend. China lay smoking gently on the floor, unconscious and badly burned but alive. America felt a hand on his should and looked up to find the other nations freed.

'We need to get out of here; this whole place is going up in smoke!' England yelled over the flames. America nodded and picked up China as gently as he could manage, grunting in pain as he felt the large blisters on his forearms erupt. Together they ran back through the burning building, dodging flaming debris. Italy had Germany's arm slung over his shoulder and half carried, half led him through the chaos, with Japan dragging a coughing Russia along by the hand behind them. England and France brought up the rear, leaning heavily on each other for support. As they passed through the foyer Russia scooped his scarf off the floor, wrapping it contentedly around his bruised neck as he ran. Behind him England grabbed France's waistcoat as they hobbled past it. France gave him a grateful smile.

They managed to make it through the now wide open front door just as the ceiling of the foyer gave way, disintegrating into the blaze. Finally safe, they turned for a moment to watch the building be slowly consumed by the flames, collapsing in on itself like a sped up film of a decaying corpse. One last plaintive wail rose up from the damned building before being lost on the air.

'Guys...' America spoke quietly as he stared in the fire. 'Let's go home.'


End file.
